


Home Reno Hero

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (just a little bit of language), (not the way you think), Canada, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, HGTV AU, Language, pining!Shiro, wingman lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Only one man can make a home go from ZERO… to HERO! See for yourself onHomE RenO HERO, coming up next on HGTV!





	Home Reno Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when [Breezy](https://breezycheezyart.tumblr.com/) and I get talking about our love for HGTV reno shows. (Also, she's weak for cake decorating videos; this is relevant.) I came up with this idea and so I dedicate it to Breezy & Boofie, with love, friendship, and Shallura smooches. <3
> 
> For those of you who _don't_ watch HGTV reno shows, hopefully this all still makes sense.  
>  ================

**Narrator:** Today we’re going to meet Allura and Lance, a couple of young professionals with dreams bigger than their 1500 sq. ft. home.

 **Allura:** The house is perfect!

 **Lance:** It’s a great location.

 **Allura:** …yeah, it’s the location that’s perfect, really. The house itself… not so much.

 **Narrator:** And that’s where our Home Reno Hero comes in. He’ll provide Lance and Allura with three different options to choose from to take this home from Zero to HERO! The real question is whether he can come in on time and under budget, or will their dreams turn into nightmares?

 

            “You owe me _big time_ for this,” he heard the guy – Lance – mutter into his phone. Shiro stifled a sigh. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but that didn’t make it any easier.

            He was on this network because he had contracting and home design experience, but he knew he was on TV in general because of his looks and because he ticked off two important diversity boxes for modern-day television execs: he was part Japanese and he had a prosthetic arm.

            He put up with being treated like a Chippendale because he thought it was important to fight the stereotypes against Asians and to show that having a prosthetic right hand didn’t have to limit one’s life all that much. Also because they paid him better money than he’d ever made just doing contractor work. But, truth be told, he was getting really tired of getting his ass pinched or hearing comments about how he was a “thick slab of Kobe beef.”

            One thing he actually wasn’t getting tired of was the constant questions about how he lost his arm. He had been annoyed and fired off a snarky comment once and ever since then they’d worked it into the show.

 **Client #47:** So, I have to ask…  
**Shiro:** [hanging cabinets] Uh huh?  
**Client #47:** …how’d you lose the arm?  
**Shiro:** I interrupted someone who was hanging cabinets.

 **Client #102:** I’m so sorry, you can tell me to shut up if you want, but I’m just so curious about the arm…  
**Shiro:** Actually, I had it cut off so I could get this replacement.  
**Client #102:** Really?  
**Shiro:** Yep! Helps a lot with renos… [punches through a wall they’re about to tear down] …and demos.  
**Client #102:** [nervous smile]

            Sometimes the questions were a little too pointed or he couldn’t come up with a good comeback right away. Those times they worked the jokes into an aside, like the time he’d had to put up with a particularly difficult pair and had told the camera, “You wanna know how I lost the arm? I tore it off in frustration after dealing with indecisive clients.”

            So long as he was the one making the jokes, the network had allowed it, and it helped the ratings. Some people tuned in for the reno advice, puns, and arm jokes; others liked the before-and-afters and the hot stud doing the work. Whatever got people to keep watching, he supposed. The money was good, the exposure was necessary, and so long as he was careful and avoided paparazzi-bait scandals, he could parlay this into a good steady stream of work even after the network had moved on to the next Unnecessarily-Good-Looking Home Renovator.

            For now, it was old hat to find out that one of the homeowners fancied him and the other was just going along with this for the sake of the reno help and to make their other half happy. _Better than when they **both** like me_ , he thought. _Then there’s no hiding from the hands and the flirtations._

            He smiled as he approached the guy. “Hey, good to meet you. I’m Shiro, but feel free to call me Takashi Shirogane when the cameras aren’t rolling.” It was an old joke; he used it every time. He was only ever “Shiro” on the show – “Don’t want to confuse them with a long, foreign name,” the network had said – so he liked getting his actual name out there to clients. Not that he minded the nickname (he’d gone by it for most of his life, after all), but he resented the network’s reasoning behind it. _It’s not that hard a name to pronounce._

            The guy chuckled dutifully. “Good to meet you, too, Shiro. I’m Lance. Allura’s on her way from work; traffic on the 401 is…”

            “Say no more!” Shiro laughed with an overdone wince. “The 401 is a _nightmare_. Does she work downtown then?”

            Lance nodded. “Yes, which is why she likes living out here. Truth be told, she works from home or on the road a lot, only goes into the office when it’s absolutely necessary. She tried so hard not to go in today, but… gotta make that money.”

            Shiro nodded. “I take it you don’t work downtown?”

            “I work in the city, but not properly ‘downtown’. I run a bakery with one of my bestest buds, Hunk.” He produced a business card and handed it over with no small amount of flair. “Wedding cakes a specialty, but we can do anything. Hunk works magic with baked goods, and I’m the decorating wizard.”

            “Oh, an artist! Good to know!” Internally, he prayed to whatever god might hear him. Artists were a 50/50 shot: either they were great about communication and understood artistic principles enough to be able to pull out some great compromises with amazing results, or they had A Vision that they would not allow to be compromised in the smallest detail. _Please be the good kind_. “Has Matt talked to you yet about B-roll?”

            “Hm, never heard of it, but I know Hunk can make it. He can do anything.”

            Shiro laughed a little. “Uh, B-roll footage. Stuff that’s not the main ‘storyline’ of the reno, basically. They’ll probably want shots of Allura working – or seeming to – and shots of you decorating a cake, some stuff of the two of you doing stuff together. That typical ‘happy young professional couple’ stuff.”

            “OH!” Lance smiled sheepishly; it was disarming. Most guys who got embarrassed would try to backtrack or cover their asses. “Then, no, Matt hasn’t talked to me about that stuff yet.” He brightened. “Do you think we can get Hunk in some of the shots?”

            “Absolutely. Get him pulling a cake out of the oven and then you decorating it – or some other cake that the audience will think is the same one. Whatever’s easiest.”

            Lance gasped in over-the-top outrage. “You want me to _lie_ to my audience?! SIR!” But then he laughed and it was hard for Shiro to avoid joining in.

            _So far, so good_. Lance seemed normal, natural, not doing the guarded “buddy” act to try to be the Good Guy while still keeping his girl (in this case) away. Despite the last bit of phone call Shiro had overheard, this homeowner was being chill about it. _Could be he just doesn’t like the whole filming thing, as opposed to being possessive?_ Whatever it was, Shiro wasn’t about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

            A silver Ford Fusion pulled up to a nearby curb. Lance turned in that direction and huffed, “ _Finally_.” He turned back to Shiro. “That’s Allura. She’s a big fan; this was all her idea.”

            “Oh, good to know.” So he was at least partially right: she’d wanted to do it and had convinced her boyfriend – they didn’t seem to be married; he didn’t see any rings, anyway – to go along with it. Hopefully, he could get away with some autographs and selfies. Some fans respected boundaries and some – especially homeowners he had to work with in sometimes close quarters – did _not_.

            The car door opened. She was already apologizing before she even stepped out. “I am _so sorry_ I’m late, the 401 is such a _nightmare_!”

            Shiro’s mouth fell open.

            The word “photogenic” didn’t do her justice; hell, “knockout” didn’t even come close. Moonlight-colored hair pulled up into a bun, dark skin, sparkling blue eyes. She had a light blue blazer-and-pencil skirt set on over a pearlescent top. Long legs, and, from what he could see, a killer figure. He had seen any number of gorgeous men and women – in movies, in ads, even been privileged enough to date a couple – but until this moment, he had no idea someone this heart-stoppingly beautiful existed in the world.

            He realized he was staring, blinked himself out of it, licked his now-dry lips, and shut his mouth. She walked right up to Lance and kissed his cheek; her lipstick didn’t leave so much as a smear. “Lance! Thank you so much.” And then she turned to smile at him. “I’m sorry I’m late; I’m Allura, the homeowner. Uh, the other homeowner.” Her smile widened a little.

            He nodded. “Shiro. I’m.” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m Shiro, but you probably already knew that.”

            “I did, yes.” She sounded equal parts amused and nervous.

            And then the production crew swooped in to get her mic’d. Matt came over with his clipboard.

            “Okay, we’re going to do show-and-tell.”

            “Show-and-tell?” Lance asked. “Help me out; I don’t watch the show.”

            “Oh, you and Allura will take Shiro on a tour through the house,” Matt told him. “Show him around and tell him what you like and don’t like, what you’d like to have instead, that sort of thing.”

            “I’ll be sketching and jotting things down while we go,” Shiro said, “but we’ve already got the blueprints of the house.”

            Matt nodded. “Pidge is uploading them now, working on the graphics.”

            “She’s a marvel,” Shiro said, glad to have one of his best friends here to restore some normality.

            “Of course she is, she’s my sister,” Matt retorted without looking up from his clipboard. “But her ego’s getting big enough, so maybe don’t say it in front of her?”

            Shiro laughed.

            “What sort of a name is ‘Pidge’?” Lance scoffed.

            “A nickname,” Matt said. “She claims to hate it, but if you call her by her actual name, she practically growls like a caged animal.”

            “Okay now, you can’t just say that and _not_ tell me what her name is.”

            Shiro snickered. “You likely won’t meet her; she prefers to stay in the office.”

            “All the more reason to give me the goods!” Lance declared.

            Matt was unmoved. “I’ve promised not to, and a big brother keeps his word to his pwecious baby sister.”

            “She hears you calling her _that_ , she’ll attack,” Shiro warned him.

            “Shiro, let’s get your intro done.”

            “Oh, right. By the walkway into the house, as usual?”

            Matt just nodded and waved a cameraman up.

            “Wait, what’s going on?” Lance asked.

            “Don’t worry, Romelle’ll walk you through it. Just stay quiet,” Matt said.

            Shiro stopped and turned, plastering on his TV smile as the camera’s red “filming” light snapped on. “Three, two…” He took a breath. “Today, Lance and Allura are going to show me around their home. I’ll take notes on the good, the bad, and the ‘needs to be burned.’” He grinned. “This walkthrough will give me what I need to work up designs for the homeowners.”

            Right on cue, the two of them practically appeared next to him. Shiro knew the camera would be panning out as he turned to face them, getting Allura and Lance into the shot. “So, I’m ready for the guided tour if you are.”

            “Absolutely,” Allura said, starting towards the door.

            “Hold onto your butt; this place needs a lot of help,” Lance muttered.

            Shiro laughed, unsure if the network would let them get away with that, but Matt hadn’t called “cut” yet, so he followed Allura into the house, Lance falling in behind him. He pulled his notebook and pencil out to jot down notes.

            There was already a film crew inside, of course, to catch his reaction when he walked in.

            “Well, this is… _quaint_ ,” he said, deliberately emphasizing the word.

            “The word you’re looking for is ‘dated,’” Lance huffed, folding his arms. “Aside from the location, Allura’s the best thing about this house.”

            “Lance,” she protested lightly.

            “So far, I agree,” Shiro commented. He caught Allura blushing and reminded himself to watch what he said… even if it was the truth. He jotted some notes down.

            “You writing down ‘burn it all and start over’?” Lance asked him.

            “Hardly. There are some good bones, but hopefully I don’t have to take it all the way down to the studs to make it tolerable. Still, if that’s what we gotta do, then we’ll do it.”

            “This way,” Allura said politely.

            Shiro could see what Lance meant about the house being dated. The whole thing was a mess of random rooms, different floorings. But still, good bones; there was a lot that could be done with this house. “How old is this house, do you know?” he asked as they left the kitchen to go upstairs.

            “1920’s, I believe?” Allura answered.

            “Oh, great,” he groaned.

            The homeowners both stopped and looked at him. “What?”

            “A house this old has great character! But also most likely knob-and-tube wiring. We’ll hope not, since it looks like the 90’s took over at some point, but I’d bet my right arm we’re not that lucky.”

            Lance snorted in amusement but Allura just smiled.

            “So what are you looking for?” Shiro asked as he followed them up the requisite creaky stairs.

            “Obviously something more modern,” Allura replied. It wasn’t unusual that one of the pair had the more definite ideas. So long as Lance wasn’t going to put up a fuss about it, Shiro was fine with her doing all the talking. _For more reasons than one_. “Get rid of some of the walls, open it up a bit. I like light and air. But I don’t want to throw out all the charm, either. I usually work from home, so I spend a lot of time here. I don’t want it to feel cold.”

            This was all pretty standard. He kept writing as she continued, “I like things clean and sleek.”

            “And everything fit for a princess,” Lance put in. “Of course.”

            She rolled her eyes. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, dear.”

            “Nothing but the best our budget can afford for you, nummie-muffin-cocoa-puff!”

            Shiro laughed so hard at that he nearly walked into a wall. As it was he had to brace himself against it so he didn’t fall over. “I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

            “Don’t be sorry. He only says things like that because he knows they annoy me.”

            He glanced up in time to see her stick her tongue out at her boyfriend or partner or whatever he was. Lance just grinned at her.

            He took notes on their personal belongings, too. They would obviously be a pointer towards the clients’ taste. But there was one thing he noticed. “Lance, can I ask a weird question?”

            “I get the feeling you’re about to,” he replied.

            “Where are your clothes?” The walk-in closet was spacious and filled with what was clearly all Allura’s clothing and shoes.

            “Dry cleaners,” they said at the same time.

            Shiro paused to arch an eyebrow. “All of them?”

            “I’ve got stuff in some of the dresser drawers,” Lance said, a little too quickly. “And I keep some stuff at the bakery – suits to wear to weddings and such, so I can do a quick change before I show up with the cake.”

            He had no idea what was going on here but decided not to press. _Maybe things aren’t as rosy between the two of them as they want us to think?_ It wouldn’t be the first time that a couple’s situation had changed between when they submitted to the show and when the crew showed up. _Maybe that’s also why they’re not wearing rings?_ But, it wasn’t any of his business.

            “The important thing I need to know is what your taste is like, Lance. This is your house, too.” _At least for now_.

            Lance shook his head. “Nah, like I said, the princess gets what the princess wants.”

            Shiro shot the camera crew a look and they vacated. He reached back to switch off the mic pack clipped to the back of his jeans. “Hey, look, it isn’t the first time we’ve had a couple on the show who are going through some things,” he said gently. “I’ve seen a lot of guys try to make their partners happy by doing the show and the reno, and let me tell you, in my experience, it doesn’t work out if one of you always gives in to the other.”

            They blinked and then Lance laughed. But Shiro noticed that Allura looked embarrassed.

            “No, man, that’s not it at all! You think we’re getting a divorce or something?”

            “Well…”

            “We’re as happy as we’ve ever been! But Allura works from home most of the time. I don’t have to be in this house 24/7; she does. Honestly, just do what the lady says. She and I have talked about all of this.”

            He shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just don’t be afraid to speak up, alright?”

            “Believe me,” Allura said, “he has no problem with that.”

            _That’s not helping_. But she sounded amused, not annoyed. So Shiro let it go. It honestly wasn’t his place; he was here to renovate a home, not a relationship. “Right.” He turned his mic pack back on.

            “Shiro?” It was Matt’s voice from downstairs. “Everything okay up there?”

            He returned to the top of the stairs. “Yeah, got everything I need. We’re all set.”

            “Good. Send them down to do their intro before you head back to the office.”

            “Right.” Matt left and Shiro turned back to talk to the homeowners. He wasn’t surprised to find Lance and Allura right behind him: until they got used to things, the clients tended to just follow him around like lost puppies. “Okay, so I’m going to head back to my office to get started on designs for you guys. It takes me about a week to get all three ready to go.”

            “A week?” Allura asked in surprise. “That’s quick!”

            He grinned. “Well, that’s just for the designs, but then Pidge – our techie – has to get the 3D models done and I do have other projects I’m on, too. So it’ll be about 3 weeks total before I see you guys again.

            “In the meantime, Matt wants you guys to go downstairs, give the cameramen – and thus the audience – a bit more of a tour, talk about what you love and hate about the house, etc.”

            “Oh, yes! The beginning of the show stuff!” Allura said brightly.

            “Like I said, big fan,” Lance put in.

            “Shut up,” she hissed at him, turning red.

            He smiled at her. “If you want me to autograph something besides invoices, I’d be glad to. Matt should have some glossies.”

            “N-no, that’s fine,” she said quickly.

            “How about a credit card receipt?” Lance put in. “Say, at a nice restaurant? I know this one…”

            Allura actually clapped a hand over her partner’s mouth. “Ignore him; I usually d- UGH!” She jerked her hand away. “YOU LICKED ME?!”

            Lance grinned. “Works every time. Don’t mess with someone who grew up with a bunch of sisters.”

            She was shaking her hand as if she could get the cooties off.

            Shiro snorted. “Uh, no, sorry, I can’t do dinner tonight. Busy busy. But the cameramen are also going to want to set up times to shoot B-roll footage with you both while I’m getting everything ready. I’ll call to schedule the design showing when they’re ready. In the meantime…” He pulled out a business card and presented it to Allura. “There’s my office phone if you have any questions about anything or you thought of something you want to see in the designs.”

            “Thank you,” she said as she accepted the card with her non-licked hand.

            “And now I get to tackle the 401,” he groaned.

            Allura laughed; it was almost musical. “I wish you all the luck in the world with it.”

            “Thank you. I’ll need it.” He started down the stairs.

            “Oh, uh…?”

            “Hm?” He stopped and turned back to look up at her.

“Um, on the show, it always seems like you have the clients’ phone numbers to call them directly about things? So, do you need my… our phone numbers?”

            He smiled. “At some point. It’s usually not necessary until we start in on the reno.”

            “I thought you said you were gonna call to schedule the design showing?” Lance asked.

            Shiro’s smile turned sheepish. “The show usually gives me your number at that point. But if you want to give me your numbers now, that’s fine, too.”

            “Just take Allura’s,” Lance said. “After all, what would my mother think having strange, handsome men calling me at all hours?”

            The look Allura shot him was… weird. The closest Shiro could come to deciphering it was ‘Stark Disbelief.’ One of those “you did NOT just say that,” sort of looks.

            “Well, if she’s going to be the main decision maker, she’ll be the one I’ll want to bug the most anyway,” he said. He pulled his phone out and passed it over to her.

            Part of his lizard brain was screeching, _I’M GETTING THE HOT CHICK’S NUMBER!!!_ The rest of his brain was informing him that (A) she was not ‘a hot chick,’ she was a beautiful woman, (B) she was married or involved or in some sort of relationship with someone else, and (C) he was getting this number because she was a CLIENT. As in ‘no nookie even if she were single.’ Sure, she was a fan, and that opened the possibility that she might be attracted to him, as many of his fans were, but it was a moot point because of points B  & C, and possibly point A. He was pretty sure she could have anyone she wanted if things went south with Lance. _That’s getting perilously close to wishing they’d break up_ , he chided himself.

            “Put a little winkie emoji in by your name,” Lance was saying to her. He was reaching towards the screen.

            “Knock that off,” she said, batting his hand away. She smiled as she offered Shiro his phone back. “There you go, Mr. Shirogane.”

            He blinked. “Thank you. Y’know, you’re welcome to call me ‘Shiro.’ Most people do.”

            “When the cameras are rolling, maybe,” she agreed. “But it always seemed kind of rude to me that people don’t use your name when they’re dealing with you in a professional setting.”

            He shrugged. “They’re just used to Shiro. The execs think my actual name might be too long and foreign for people.”

            Her brow furrowed. “Really? It’s not that hard a name to pronounce.”

            He couldn’t help smiling. “Well, thank you, Ms. …”

            “Oh, no, Allura’s fine.”

            “What happened to ‘professional’?” Lance asked her. It was exactly the sort of question a jealous partner would ask, but Lance was smirking. He was _teasing_ her, not seeming jealous or possessive at all.

            _I don’t understand what’s going on, but I’m not going to pry._ Especially when it all seemed to be going his way: only one person’s tastes to account for and design to; a partner who wasn’t going to be glaring at him because he smiled at their significant other for half a second too long; and a completely understanding client who made an effort to be polite and professional with him despite being a fan.

            Allura was back to blushing, so Shiro spoke up to try to break the awkwardness. “I look forward to working with you,” he said, meaning it entirely.

            “The feeling is very mutual,” Lance assured him. Allura looked like she wanted to shove him down the stairs.

            “Shiro?” Matt called from farther into the house. “They ready for intros yet?”

            “Oh, oops.” He leaned over the railing and called back to him, “They’re on their way!” He looked back to the homeowners. “Duty calls, for all of us. Try to have fun with it, and I’ll talk to you again in a few weeks.”

 

 **Allura:** I usually work from home, but when I’m not on the phone with clients, I do like to entertain friends.

 **Lance:** There’s nothing about this house that is entertaining.

 **Allura:** Hey!

 **Lance:** It’s going to take a real hero in order to drag this place into the 21 st century.

 **Allura:** It’s not _that_ bad.

 **Lance:** [gives her a Look]

 **Allura:** …okay, but it does need help.

 

            Shiro was straightening his tie when the crew said they were here. “Matt,” he hissed before he could walk off, “Vest. Buttoned or unbuttoned?”

            Matt paused and arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”

            “That’s what I’m asking you!”

            “No, no. I’m asking which one you’ve got the hots for.”

            Shiro rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to look good for the show, Matt.”

            “You’ve never asked me for clothing advice before. In any case, they’re a couple, so it doesn’t matter whether you want him or her. It’d be a PR nightmare.”

            “I know that,” he grumped.

            “I can see the tabloid headlines now: ‘Homewrecker Hero’.”

            “Shut up. I’m not going to do anything!”

            “But you’re blushing.”

            “Matt.”

            “Buttoned. It emphasizes that shoulder-to-waist ratio.”

            Shiro’s brow furrowed. “What?”

            “It Makes You Look Hot,” Matt spelled out for him. “Also it looks more professional. Button up; I’ll buy you another 30 seconds. Cool off and no flirting.”

            “I won’t flirt!”

            “I watch dailies,” Matt reminded him.

            “If you had, you wouldn’t have to ask which one,” Shiro shot back.

            “At least you’re not denying it.”

            “Shut up and go buy me time.”

            Matt left his office and Shiro took the time to take a deep breath, hold it, and exhale. He tried not to think of how often he’d tried to come up with some excuse to call Allura ever since he’d gotten her number. He tried not to think of how he’d almost been too nervous to _actually_ call her when it was finally time to make the design appointment.

            _This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a teenager, like I’m in high school._ It was a pointless crush and no amount of reminding himself of that was helping him. But getting through this job and out the other side would help. Allura was barely-known at this point, which left his imagination plenty of room to run with. She was more fantasy than reality right now; getting to know her as a real person as they worked together on the demo and reno would help.

            _For all I know, she’s pickier and more demanding than she seemed. I only got to talk to her for, what, an hour? Less than that. She wouldn’t be the first client who looked like a dream and turned out to be a nightmare._ He looked at himself in the mirror, smoothing out his tie and vest. _This is going to be a fun story to tell people once I’m done with the show: ‘yeah, there was this one client who was like some sort goddess; I was so gone on her for a bit. But, you know, in the end, she turned out to be as human as anyone else. An insanely beautiful human, but still just human.’_

            He turned to the door just as it opened and put on his customer smile. Allura walked in and Shiro felt his heart skip a beat. She was impeccable in a pink sundress and a lacy white shrug, dressed up with accessories. _How did she turn these casual clothes into something a model would wear on the French Riviera?_

            “Sorry, Lance is the one running late this time,” she said apologetically. “They had a big order come in last minute.”

            _Oh god I’m alone with her_. The door closed behind her. He swallowed hard.

            “That’s fine. The show just needs him for the footage of you two going over designs; I can discuss things with you while we wait on him. Please, have a seat.” He had sofas facing the presentation screen. “Can I get you some water, coffee, tea?”

            “Water would be good,” she said as she seated herself elegantly.

            “Be right back,” he said, practically running from the room. “Matt!” he hissed as soon as the door closed behind him.

            “She already said her partner’s late; we’re holding the cameras.”

            Shiro headed for the small fridge. “How am I going to survive until he shows up?” he groaned quietly. “She’s too perfect.”

            “ _I knew it_ ,” Matt declared triumphantly. “Just breathe and stay professional. Here.” He snatched the water bottle from Shiro’s hands and grabbed some rigger’s tape to cover the name brand. “You haven’t been this jittery since Adam.”

            “Since _before_ Adam,” he corrected. “I mean, I was bad about Adam, but I wasn’t _this_ bad, believe me. I know I’ll get over it, I will, but right now it’s like I’m some zit-faced brat again and…”

            “You’re not a zit-faced brat, Shiro,” Matt said, handing the bottle back to him. “You’re tall, strong, ridiculously fit, and she’s a fan of the show who’s probably ogling your ass every time you turn around. Also, more to the point, she’s a…”

            “Client,” he finished for him. “I know, I know, believe me I know. I’m not going to do anything. I don’t think I could even if I were allowed.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, send Lance straight in when he gets here. Get him a drink first if he wants one.”

            “You think I don’t know how to do this? Go on.” Matt gave him a playful shove.

            Shiro walked back in and handed the water bottle to her smoothly. “Sorry, we have to cover the label in case it shows up on camera.”

            “Oh, I understand. Thank you.” She cracked it open and took a deep drink.

            “Thirsty?” he asked in surprise.

            “Nervous,” she admitted. “I keep trying to forget that there are cameras, but it’s hard sometimes.”

            “Relax. You look amazing. Uh… I mean…”

            She smiled and blushed. _That’s not helping_. “Thank you, but I’m also worried about sounding stupid or bitchy or… or something.”

            “So far you’ve been doing fine.”

            “We’ve hardly recorded anything so far,” she pointed out.

            “But hey, you’ve got a good start.” He smiled reassuringly (well, he hoped it was reassuring anyway). “So, the designs…”

            He brought up what they’d discussed before and the things he’d tried to incorporate in the designs. She settled down a little, it seemed to him. It was easy to talk with her, and she was responsive and attentive. But at the back of his mind was Matt’s suggestion that she found him attractive. Again, she was a fan, so it was possible. It was possible Lance did, too, for that matter. So long as they both kept their hands to themselves, it’d be fine.

            But his mind was already conjuring scenarios. If Allura got handsy with him, would he turn her down? He absolutely should. But _would_ he? It was too tempting. He focused up on the designs.

            Finally Lance showed up with a bottle of water from the front office and a lot of apologies. Shiro stood as soon as the door opened. “Lance! Glad to see you!” He meant it. He meant every word of that.

            “I’m super sorry, really. Clients, right? Wait, shit, I’m a client now.” He laughed. “Really, I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay. I talked over some stuff with Allura and now we can get down to actually looking at the designs. Which means it’s camera time!”

            Allura’s smile got nervous. Lance sat down next to her and patted her hand. “Chill, honey, you’re a knockout. I’m sure Shiro agrees with me, right?”

            _110%, but why are you even saying that to me?_ “You both look fine. Don’t worry. We’re not actually trying to make you look bad.”

            Lance snorted. “Oh, of _course_ not. Reality TV always tells the truth.”

            Shiro couldn’t really refute that charge. It was true that the editors played up some of the worst qualities of some of his clients for the sake of entertainment. But, at the same time, they could only work with what they were given. If you gave them a lot of ammunition, they were going to use it.

            They settled in on the sofas, the crew came in, the bright lights came on, and Matt let them know when they were rolling.

            “Okay, so I’ve got three designs for you two,” Shiro said after a moment’s pause. “Hopefully one of these will be perfect for you.”

            All three designs had more open floorplans, more modern finishes, more light, more air. He’d tried to keep “casual elegance” in mind throughout his plans. Allura had excellent taste in furnishings, so they’d be able to keep a lot of what she already had, and he’d tried to incorporate them into his designs.

            The first design came perilously close to their budget, but it was high-end everything, sleek, polished, modern. The second was the cheapest of the three, the cost-saver extraordinaire: little more than house reno and very little decorating. And the third was the typical middle-of-the-road option: splash out on the kitchen, living room, and master bed & bath, cut corners elsewhere.

            “I don’t know if other people ever ask this question,” Allura mused, “but is it possible to sort of combine them?”

            Shiro cocked his head. “How so?”

            “Well, I love the master suite designs in the third one, but I like the kitchen in the first one and everything else in the second.”

            He blinked, running numbers quickly and talking to buy time. “It’s pretty common for people to ask to combine them, but they’re usually asking for something that can’t be done. For what you’re asking for?” He had to take a bit longer to consider. The kitchen would cost vastly more, but there’d be substantial savings everywhere else except the master suite. “It’s…doable. I’d put it about $5k under your max budget if you want to do that.”

            She looked at Lance.

            He shrugged and nodded.

            She turned back to Shiro and smiled. “Can we do that, then?”

            He chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, sure. Give me a couple of days to combo those plans together and get them submitted. We’ll work on the licenses and all that, and then it’ll be time to get to work.”

 

 **Narrator:** Allura’s chosen to combine elements from all three designs into one hybrid design that suits her tastes. But with only $5,000 left for contingency, she and Lance had better hope for as few surprises as possible.

 

            “SHIRO!”

            That was Matt. And, as usual, he was getting yelled at because of the long string of unairable curse words that he’d just let loose.

            “Get Allura,” he groaned.

            It was the first day. He normally let the homeowners do some demo on the kitchen and living room because it was relatively easy and it was fun for both them and the audience. But, at the same time, he wasn’t going to wait for them to actually swing the very first hammer (especially since Lance was at work). They’d started on other parts of the house so as not to lose the day.

            “Shiro?” He looked over at Matt escorting Allura in and pointing her towards him. She had her hair braided back and was in a faded pink-and-blue plaid shirt and well-fitted blue jeans.

            He cleared his throat, remembering he was on camera, and waited for her to come into the shot. “Well, we just got started on the demo and I’ve already got bad news.”

            “Oh, no,” she said. “Is it the wiring?”

            He nodded. “Knob and tube,” he confirmed. “If I could go back in time and backhand the person who created knob and tube…”

            “How much is replacing the wiring going to add?”

            “At least $2k. I got a friend owes me a favor so it shouldn’t impact the timeline too much? But when Lance is done with work, I really need you two chipping in as much as you can.”

            She nodded. “Sure. Is there something I can do in the meantime?”

            “I’m sure we can find something if you’re not busy. I know you work from home.”

            “I’m on a semi-vacation,” she said. “My schedule’s as light as I could get away with; unless an emergency comes up, there’s nothing on my plate today.”

            “Oh, great!” He grinned. “Then I am absolutely putting you to work. Let’s get you some work gloves and safety goggles.”

            Her first swing with a sledgehammer was… less than impressive. (And caught on camera, of course.) “I don’t think I’m doing this right,” she said with a sheepish smile after barely making a dent in the wall.

            “Here, let me help.” He stepped in behind her and reached around to adjust her hands on the handle. “Try holding it about here. Don’t hold quite so tight; you don’t want a loose grip, obviously, but you don’t have to hold on for dear life. That’s a good way to get an injury.” He kicked the side of his work boot against the inside of her sneaker-clad feet. “Widen your stance a little.” She moved her legs apart more. “Better. How’s that feel?”

            “Oh, uh… m-much better.”

            It took her stammering and blushing reply for him to realize what this must look like: his chest to her back, his arms around her, hands on her own. He let go and backed away hastily, thinking very, very cold thoughts. “Try another swing,” he suggested.

            She did better the second time, but then admitted, “It’s still a little… I mean, this is my _house_ , and I’m wrecking it…”

            “No, no,” he said, moving forward and putting his hand on the wall right above the small hole she’d made. “This is… it’s a little like the skin of your house. Your house has good bones. We’re just fixing some small breaks and doing a lot of cosmetic surgery. You’re not wrecking your house. You’re… exfoliating.”

            She laughed. “I’m exfoliating my house?”

            He grinned. Her laugh was so wonderful. “Absolutely. It’s all zitty and scarred. It needs a facelift. Come on.” He stepped away from the wall. “Think about how great this place is gonna look once this is all done and cleaned up and fresh. Give your house the exfoliating it deserves.”

            She took a deep breath and then swung. She knocked an impressive hole in the wall, then turned to him, beaming. “I did it!”

            “I knew you could. You’ve got the strength for it; you just needed some tips. Go ahead and finish this wall to the corner, but then come find me, okay? I shouldn’t be far.”

            She nodded and set to demo with the gusto of a five-year-old knocking down a sibling’s sandcastle. Not that he’d know anything about that, _RYOU_. He went to find a relatively quiet place to call his electrician friend to come help out with the ancient wiring. Matt intercepted him on his way back to check on Allura’s progress.

            “We are absolutely _not_ airing the bit where you helped her with her sledgehammer technique.”

            He winced. “That bad?”

            “I mean, it’d be great if you were a ghost and ‘Unchained Melody’ was playing, but…”

            Shiro rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t _that_ bad.”

            “I nearly died when you kicked her legs further apart. I half thought you were gonna bend her over against the wall.”

            He felt his face flame. “MATT!”

            “Do I need to remind you of ‘Homewrecker Hero’?”

            Shiro sighed. “Can you at least use the rest of that?”

            “Yeah, of course; the exfoliation metaphor was good stuff. But you’ve _got_ to be more careful.”

            “I really didn’t even think about it until afterwards. I didn’t!” he insisted when Matt cast a disbelieving look his way. “But that might actually be worse. I would never have done that with any other homeowner. I was probably subconsciously looking for an excuse to be close to her.”

            “Well, tell your subconscious to knock it off. This is a family show.”

            “Believe me, I’m trying to get it to calm down. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make sure she isn’t getting carried away with her newfound love of demo.”

            Matt grinned. “The more reticent they are at the beginning, the more they wind up loving it.”

            “I’d bet my right arm on it,” Shiro agreed.

            Matt laughed and gave him a shove. “Save the arm jokes for the camera. Have they asked yet and we just missed it, by the way?”

            “No, neither one of them has brought it up yet. But it always happens. Give it time. This is only day one, and we have a four-week reno here.”

            Allura trotted up to him, face flushed, breath a little fast, with a big smile on her face. _That’s not helping things. God **damn** she looks good like that. _ “I finished that wall!”

            “Quick work. Let’s see.” There was a warning for Shiro in Matt’s eyes as he escorted Allura back to where he’d left her. _I KNOW._ Honestly, he felt he was doing a damn good job, all things considered. A lot of that could be laid at the doorstep of his feeling like an idiot child around the gorgeous woman that was his client, but he was still behaving himself, dammit.

            Mostly.

            She’d done an excellent and thorough job. “You’re on par with some of my best workers!” he said. He meant it as a joke, but he wasn’t entirely kidding. “Well, normally I let the couple work on the living room and kitchen demos together, but if Lance is going to be gone for another few hours, I’d hate to waste the time.”

            “He said he wasn’t interested in getting his hands dirty,” Allura told him.

            He wasn’t about to believe her. Once you got started on demo, it could be something of an adrenaline rush. She was essentially a junkie asking for her next fix right now. Shiro tread carefully. “He also seems to hate the house. I think it might be therapeutic for him to knock some walls down. But I’ll tell you what: how about we get going on the kitchen demo and we’ll leave the living room for him. Nice, straightforward, easy. And by then you’ll practically be an expert. You can show him how to swing a sledgehammer like a pro.”

            “Well, only because I had such a good teacher,” she replied, cheeks darkening.

            _Is that a flirt? I’d count it as a flirt if it were another client. Is she actually flirting with me?_ He held his tongue. _Does any of that matter? She’s a client and she’s spoken for._

            “Thank you, but flattery won’t get the reno done any faster.” She laughed and he gestured towards the kitchen. “After you.”

            “Such a gentleman,” she said, hefting the sledgehammer and heading in that direction.

            Shiro caught Matt slicing at his throat, eyes shooting daggers. He mouthed a “what?” back at him and Matt rolled his eyes. Shiro repeated that gesture, grabbed a sledge of his own, and nodded towards the kitchen. “Come on, we have a kitchen to tear down!”

            The kitchen was a relic of the last reno done on the home, back in the 1990’s: all white laminate and a shade of pink that Shiro always thought of as “unfortunate.” It all had to go. Well, almost all.

            “We’re going to repurpose the cabinets,” he told her, “but with new doors and a new coat of paint. They’re not going to stay in this configuration, so we’re going to have to put the sledgehammer down for a bit,” she pouted at him, “and pull cabinet doors off. Come on, Wonder Woman, let’s see some of that strength!” She grinned again and his heart skipped another beat or two.

            She was pretty good at pulling off cabinet doors. She was also good at following directions and seemed to have a basic knowledge of tools, so he let her be the one to unscrew the cabinets from the wall while he and Rolo (another crewmember) held them in place. Then she jumped down from the countertop and the two of them carried them off to a safe distance. Lather, rinse, repeat for the next round of cabinets and so on.

            “Can we at least sledge the cabinet doors?” she asked when they’d finished.

            He chuckled. “Hate them that much?”

            “You have no idea.”

            “Okay, okay, let’s take them out to the driveway though.”

            The camera crew were _all over_ that idea; Matt sent Romelle out with them while he went to check on the 2 nd unit doing time lapse shots (but not before another warning glare). Shiro dragged out some cardboard and plyboard to protect the driveway from incidental destruction, then put one door at a time down in the center. “After you,” he said gallantly to his client.

            This slim, sexy, supermodel of a woman let out a barbarian yell as she swung the sledge with all her might and the unfortunate pink door just absolutely _shattered._ The crew was yelling and cheering and applauding. “Tell me you can do a slo-mo on that!” Shiro laughed.

            Romelle held up a finger, checking the playback, and then nodded. “Absolutely. You want a preview?”

            “Oooh, can I see, too?” Allura asked.

            “Sure, come on over.” Romelle waved them both over to the screen. She showed it in full speed and a preliminary slo-mo. Watching the door spiderweb, splinter, and then fly apart was _immensely_ satisfying.

            Shiro whistled. “Nice shot, Princess.”

            “Excuse me?” Allura asked.

            Shiro blinked and blushed. “Sorry, just… Lance said you were to be treated like a princess, and…”

            “Ugh, don’t listen to him.” But she was blushing, too. “Anyway, do you think you can do better?”

            “Oh, is it a contest now?”

            Romelle started pushing Shiro back in front of the camera. “Do this on camera! A contest would be fantastic!”

            “Do you mind redoing some dialogue?” Shiro asked her as they took up their positions again.

            “Not at all. I don’t know how good an actress I am, but…”

            “Well, we’ll find out. Good to go?”

            Romelle tossed him a thumbs up.

            He cleared his throat. “ _Nice_ shot.” He barely kept himself from adding the ‘princess’ back on there. _I shouldn’t have said it in the first place; I **definitely** shouldn’t say it on camera._ “I gotta say I am impressed.”

            “Thank you. Think you can do any better?” She was definitely a pretty decent actress, voice full of pomp and pride.

            “Is that a challenge?” he asked with a grin. “‘Cause that… that sounds like a challenge.”

            She stepped back and gestured grandly to the destruction zone. “You’re supposed to be a pro at this, right?”

            “‘Supposed to be’?!” he asked, eyebrows shooting up as his grin widened. “Oh, it’s on now.”

            He and Allura went to fetch out the rest of the doors as the crew cleared the target zone for them. They got good slo-mo shots of Shiro’s first destroyed door, too, and the results were actually pretty similar. He and Allura took turns shattering ugly cabinet doors, giving Romelle and the crew plenty of footage to work with. And it was so very satisfying. The day had started off with the unexpected headache of knob and tube wiring, but it was turning out pretty good so far.

            Sledgehammer swinging like that worked up a good sheen of sweat on his brow – and hers. She was very out of breath when they finished, chest heaving, licking her lips quickly since they’d gone dry from panting. _Ice cold thoughts,_ he chided himself. _Winter and ice and snow and bad winter traffic on the 401, dammit_. Still, he knew he’d be replaying this image for himself later.

            She grinned breathlessly and declared, “So, I think I won.”

            “Yes, that’s right,” he said in as deadpan a voice as he could manage when he was pretty breathless himself, “I won.”

            “No, _I_ won.”

            “That’s what I said: I won.”

            “Who won?” she asked the camera crew.

            Every hand pointed directly at her. “Oh, yeah, thanks a lot, guys!” Shiro said in mock-annoyance.

            She beamed, looking even more incredible basking in victory. “So, I win. Now what?”

            “Still hungry for more destruction? I should have warned you that demo’s a drug. Come on, we have counters to tear apart.”

            “We’re not saving them, are we?”

            He headed back inside. “Not a single splinter. Just don’t go after the one with the sink in it; we need to get the water shut off and the sink out of there before we can go to town on that.”

            “And there’ll be more cabinet doors to destroy! You know, in case you want a second chance at my beating your… butt.”

            He arched an eyebrow at her change in wording. _She just remembered the cameras. Good save though._ “We’ll just demolish the counters whole,” he told her. “I can be a gracious loser.”

            “Really?”

            He laughed. “You don’t have to sound so surprised!” This was definitely some of the most fun he’d had on a job.

 

            The kitchen demo killed time pleasantly until Lance came in. Even better, he’d brought several dozen assorted cookies with him for the reno and production crews. Though they were all different flavors and varieties, they were all shaped like little houses, hammers, handsaws, and the like. They were both adorable and delicious, and after having a couple, it was time to get Lance kitted out for living room demo.

            “Do I have to?” he asked.

            Allura groaned. “You’ve taken every opportunity to tell me how much you hate this place ever since I- _we_ got it.” _Odd,_ Shiro couldn’t help thinking. _Did she pick out the house, too? Is she overbearing or is Lance just that uninterested? God knows he has enough opinions on the place_. “This is a good chance for you to take some anger out. Besides, it’s for the show.”

            “You _owe_ me,” he said again, but he duly pulled on work gloves.

            “We can race!” she suggested brightly.

            “Is she always this competitive?” Shiro asked Lance.

            “Yes,” he replied instantly. “And she loves to win.”

            “You’re just a sore loser.”

            “You’ve been doing this all day already!” Lance protested. “You’ve got practice and stuff! No racing!”

            “I could give you some tips?” Shiro suggested.

            “Can I just have you demo-race her as my champion?” Lance suggested.

            He shook his head bemusedly. “Do you really not want to take a crack at tearing down the dated walls?”

            “Well… maybe… but I’m still not racing.”

            Allura relented. “Oh, _fine_.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Here, I’ll show you how to do it.”

            “What’s to show? Pick up hammer, knock it through wall.” He had a bit more trouble hefting the hammer, but he had a good swing and took out a good chunk of the drywall. “See? Easy.”

            Allura clapped. “See, you’re a natural! We should race.”

            He groaned. “I had a long day at the bakery. Let me take down this wall to vent my frustrations and then I’m out of here.”

            Living in the reno was a rare (and bad) choice, so Shiro would normally have assumed that Lance was just going back to the hotel they were staying at. But it still bothered him that none of Lance’s clothes had been here. _I just can’t shake the feeling something weird’s going on_. None of his business, of course, but he was just curious.

            He just stood back and let Lance get to work on his chosen wall. Allura attacked – almost literally – the rest of the living room. Her partner did slow but good work; the sledge still seemed a bit too heavy for him, but he got his wall down in decent time. Shiro gave them both metaphorical gold stars for their work and shooed them away.

            “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do?” Allura asked.

            “You’ve done more than enough as is. Go on, hit the showers, get some rest,” he told her.

            “You’re gonna need a shower, too,” Lance pointed out. “Why not…”

            Shiro blinked in surprise as Allura threw a work glove-covered hand over his mouth. “I _dare_ you to lick this time,” she growled at him.

 _Surely that wasn’t heading where I thought it was heading._ The idea came to him that maybe Lance was more interested in him than he’d thought. _Is he angling for a threesome or something?_ He hadn’t shown much personal interest or attraction, but some guys weren’t as obvious.

            But Lance seemed like an open book, so it would be weird for him to hide it. If anything, Lance seemed more interested in Shiro spending time _alone_ with Allura. _This is too weird for me._

            Allura was smiling uneasily. “Yes, I think it’s time we both left for the night. I’ll come back to see if I can help out in the morning.”

            Shiro shook his head. “Most of the easy demo’s done. I gotta get my electrician pal in here to deal with the knob and tube, and… well, there won’t be a lot for you to do tomorrow. I’ll give you some stuff to look over – finishes and fabric swatches, that sort of thing. You can look at those while dealing with your sore muscles.”

            Allura let go of Lance just in time for him to groan. “I didn’t even think about that. Ugh. I have a lot of really delicate work to do tomorrow, too.”

            “I’ll make it up to you, promise.” She actually sounded a bit sheepish.

            Shiro patted their shoulders. “Just go drop off your mic packs and then get some sleep. I promise I’ll let you both know what’s going on with your house.”

 

 

            That first day set a very definite tone for the project: Allura looking to help however she could without being in the way and Lance looking to be as out of the way as possible by simply not being around (other than to bring by some more cookies when he had a light day at the bakery). When Lance _was_ around, he continued to make the occasional suggestion that Shiro and Allura spend time together beyond the reno.

            At least Lance showed up when it came time to pick out furnishes and fabrics. But, even here, he only offered his opinion to Allura and let her make the final call. This was where Shiro knew they’d run into budget trouble, and, sure enough…

            “But this one is _perfect_ ,” Allura was insisting. “I love the brushed-metal look!”

            “It’s also expensive,” Shiro told her. “The knob and tube ate into our contingency, remember?”

            “Find the savings elsewhere,” she said. “It has to be this.”

            He groaned. In theory, it wasn’t a bad idea: sacrifice where you could and hold the line at what you truly want. In practice, everything was “necessary,” and nothing could be sacrificed. Shiro looked to Lance for help.

            But he just shrugged and literally stepped back. “Oh no, leave me out of this.”

            “It’s your house, too!”

            “I agree with her,” he said quickly. “This fabric’s amazing.”

            _So much for that._ “Okay, let’s just get this out of the way up front then: where are you going to find the money for this perfect fabric?” Clients either said they didn’t know or threw out vague suggestions. Shiro wanted to pin it down now so that, when they were picking something out later, he could point at this conversation as a reminder.

            “Flooring,” Allura answered immediately. “I wanted to talk to you about that anyway. I’ve been hearing a lot of wonderful things about cork.”

            His mouth actually fell open. “Y-you know about cork flooring?”

            “Well, I do watch the show regularly,” she reminded him. “You used it as a cost-effective option one time and I was curious, so I did some research. I do love the hardwood look of bamboo, but there’s a lot to be said for the cork, too. I’m not really sure which I’d prefer, but the cork is supposed to be so good on price.”

            He blinked at her and then snapped himself out of it. _I’ve never had a client mention those off the bat unless they were environmentalist types. And even then, most of them don’t know about it._ “They’re both very cost-effective. I would suggest either bamboo throughout the downstairs or else cork through most of it and tile in the kitchen.”

            “But either of those options would allow me to get this fabric for the curtains and the ottoman, yes?”

            “Well… yes, actually,” he said when he mentally ran the numbers. “Is this how you are at work, too?” When she grinned in answer, he just shook his head. “You’re terrifying.”

            “Only to those who stand between me and what I want,” she assured him. “So, yes to this fabric, and then we’ll discuss bamboo or cork for the floors?”

            “Yes, ma’am,” he said, snapping off a salute. She and Lance both laughed at that.

            And that was how the design portion went: when she wanted something, she _wanted_ it, and she would do what was necessary to get it. She agreed to help paint to cut labor costs in order to get the French doors she wanted to go from the kitchen/dining area out to the back deck. She personally negotiated the price down on a set of stainless steel appliances.

            Shiro could already see the episode narrative shaping up: the competitive, driven young professional woman who wanted to get her way – and usually did. He hoped Lance wouldn’t come out too milquetoast-y in the editing process, but every single second of this episode belonged to Allura. Hell, even he felt like a secondary character, and he was the host!

            But he didn’t mind. From a working standpoint, she was a demanding but fair client. She was easy to work with and still very easy on the eyes. And, unfortunately, his crush was not abating. Watching her haggle that appliance salesman down impressed the hell out of him. She did her research and stood by what she knew and by her decisions based on that data, but she also deferred to Shiro on areas she knew less about and was willing to change her mind if given new info.

            Spending time with her away from the reno was not helping either. They would talk and laugh and occasionally argue (before coming to an accord) as they shopped for things. She was always gorgeous, but sometimes he (or Lance) would say or do something that made her blush, thus turning the fierce fighter into a sweet maiden. He was dreaming of her at night and finding excuses to call her when he was on other projects. (To be fair, while it might be cheating to get her to use her negotiation skills for other clients, those other clients needed all the budget help they could get. Calling her up and asking her nicely to haggle for them kept one juuuuuuuust under budget, which the show (and the homeowners) always appreciated.)

            He already knew he’d be keeping Allura’s number after the show. He’d say it was for negotiation help, or to make sure things were going okay with the home post-reno, but that was all bullshit. Even if he never called her again, her smiling face in his contacts made him smile, too. _I’ve got it so bad._

            Strangest of all: neither of them had asked about his arm. He might’ve expected Allura not to, but Lance was pretty straightforward with questions (and sly comments). _Maybe she warned him not to?_ Fortunately, he’d already made a couple of jokes about it himself, so the editors could still include one of the most popular elements of the show.

            The knob and tube wiring was the only unexpected surprise, and with Allura’s business skills brought to bear (and a crew hopped up on a near-permanent sugar high thanks to Lance’s cookies), they came in under time and under budget.

            Normally, on reveal day, Shiro alternated his gaze between the final product he’d put together and the homeowners’ reactions. But this time, his eyes never left Allura.

            Her face lit up at the bamboo flooring and the brushed metal fabric curtains. The light and air she’d wanted, the French doors, the apron sink, the new gas fireplace. Energy-efficient windows to cut down on heating and cooling costs, and subtly-iridescent tiles for the backsplash.

            When they got to the master suite, she looked like she might cry: he’d definitely made sure to go all out for her on a spa bathroom with a huge tub and shower (both big enough for two), heated floors, the works. A master bedroom that looked and functioned as its own retreat from the stresses of the work day and the 401.

            She hugged him. This wasn’t unusual. Everyone hugged him. What was unusual was how badly he didn’t want to let go, and how he had to fight to keep from turning his face into her hair. He behaved, but it was so hard. _This is the last time I’m going to see you,_ he thought sadly. He kept his TV smile plastered on his face.

            “Well, I’ll leave you two to enjoy the space,” he said when they were back downstairs.

            “Oh, y-you don’t have to go so soon,” Allura protested.

            He cleared his throat. “Actually I have to go outside and do the show outro. So let’s try that again?”

            “Oh. OH!” She laughed. “I’m sorry, I forgot, you always say something like that.” She cleared her throat. “Your line.”

            He snorted and had to take a moment to get his expression straightened out. “Well, I’ll leave you two to enjoy the space.”

            “Thank you!” Lance piped up before Allura could. He put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure we will!”

            “Thank you so much for everything!” Allura gushed.

            “My pleasure,” he said with complete sincerity. He turned and headed for the door. The 2nd unit was waiting for him outside.

            He walked out and shut the door behind him, knowing the 1st unit was busy getting shots of the couple “enjoying the space” now. He focused up as he strode up to the mark they needed him to hit.

            “So, Allura and Lance have their dream home – or, at least, they have hers, and her dream seems to be his. I hope they’re both really happy with it, but if the time ever comes when they aren’t, well, I guess they know who to call.”

            He smiled and waited for Romelle’s, “Clear!” and then exhaled in relief. “Get some more footage of the outside,” she told the cameraman. “Everyone else, pack up!” She walked up and patted Shiro’s arm. “This was a good project. It’s nice to have one where pretty much everything goes well. Keeps things from getting stale.”

            “It’s nice to have a reno go this smoothly, period,” he asserted. “This was practically a vacation.”

            “You got paid pretty well for this ‘vacation’. See you back at the Iverson house next week?”

            He nodded. “Of course. Now _there’s_ a disaster.”

            She laughed. “Ugh, tell me about it: asbestos, knob and tube, termites… I’m waiting for lightning to strike them.”

            “Don’t even joke about it; we have roofers out there working and it’s supposed to storm Monday.”

            “Oops. Forget I said anything.”

            “Shiro!”

            He turned to Matt’s voice as his friend came running up. “We’ve wrapped inside but the homeowners want to see you before you leave.”

            “Right. On my way. We still have tickets to next week’s season opener, right?”

            “Pfft! Of course we do! I’M not the one who needs reminders about simple things like ‘how to wear a vest’.”

            “Hey!”

            “Here’s a hint: forego the vest at BMO. The seagulls will probably snatch it right off of you.”

            “Stop it,” he said, giving Matt a playful shove before heading back to the house.

            “Remember: if you kiss one of them, you have to kiss them both! It’s only fair!”

            “Shut UP, Matthew,” he hissed. “Or I’ll tell Pidge you told everyone her real name.”

            Matt gasped in outrage. “You WOULDN’T!”

            “Test me and find out.” He raised his hand to knock on the front door.

            But the door opened suddenly. It was one of the cameramen coming out, giving a mumbled, “‘Scuse me,” as he passed. Shiro stepped aside for them before ducking in.

            Allura and Lance were still in the living room, talking.

            “Remember: you owe me,” Lance was saying. “Thanksgiving _and_ Christmas.”

            “AND Christmas?” she replied in disbelief. “Surely you can tell your family by _then_!”

            “I could, but at the rate Keith’s going, I don’t think he’ll be able to survive my family’s Christmas.”

            “Uh, hey,” Shiro said uncertainly. “Sorry to interrupt, but I heard you wanted to see me?”

            Lance grinned. “Yes, before you leave, Allura has something she needs to tell you.”

            Her face flamed. “Lance, _stop_. I already promised to be your beard for Thanksgiving.”

            “AND CHRISTMAS.”

            She groaned. “And Christmas.”

            Shiro’s brow furrowed. “Beard? So… you’re not…?” _Don’t get your hopes up, don’t get your hopes up…_

            Allura fidgeted. “I really wanted you to redo my house. I love the end results I’ve seen on the show, and…”

            “And she thinks you’re smokin’ hot,” Lance put in.

            “Shut _UP_ ,” she hissed at him. She cleared her throat. “But the show prefers couples and I wanted to make sure I had a decent chance, so I dragged Lance on to pretend to be my boyfriend. It helps him with his family, too; they don't know he's bi and they haven't met his boyfriend yet.”

            All he could say was, “O-oh.”

            “So hurry up and take this woman out to dinner, will you?” Lance demanded. “She is thirsty for you with a capital H.”

            “Thirsty starts with a…”

            “She is _horny_ ,” Lance said.

            Allura bristled despite her blushing. “Yes, thank you for helping me get my house reno'd okay bye bye I'll text you again MAYBE NEVER.” She almost literally shoved him out the front door. She slammed it behind him, turned around, and sagged against it, eyes closed. “Oh my god, I am so embarrassed. I’m so sorry about him.”

            Shiro approached her warily. “So... all those times he was talking to me about how hot you were…?”

            “…he was trying to see if you were interested. He's a good friend and I love him, but he's nosy. Thinks he's God's gift to romance and matchmaking. Never mind the fact that I introduced him to Keith.” She cleared her throat, opened her eyes, and stood up straight. “Anyway, so… um… yeah.”

            The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Dinner?”

            “You don’t have to just because… I mean…”

            “No, I know I don’t have to, but I’d… I’d really, _really_ like to. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you’re single.”

            She brightened and smiled. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to be seen out with someone who’s not ‘my boyfriend’ so soon after shooting wrapped?”

            “Well, you have this gorgeously redone home,” he pointed out, spreading his hands to indicate the room around them. “Maybe we could order in some pizza, watch a movie? The new fabric for the couch is stain-resistant, so even if we drop a slice, it’ll clean up in a jiffy.”

            She laughed. “That sounds perfect.”

            “I love hearing you laugh,” he confessed helplessly. “I’m sorry if that’s too weird to say so soon, but…”

            “Thank you. I think it’s nice.”

            There was a sudden knock on the window that had them both jumping. They both turned to see Matt outside, pointing at them and saying (barely audibly), “MIC. PACKS. ARE ON.”

            Shiro groaned and turned red. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.” He reached back to turn his pack off. “He’s been giving me hell ever since he found out about my crush on you. Keeps ‘reminding’ me not to kiss you.”

            Allura turned back to him, one eyebrow arched and a faint smirk starting on her lips. “Well, he needs to learn to keep out of it then.” She reached out, grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him in towards her.

            It was awkward for that first couple of seconds when their lips had just been smashed randomly together, but he shifted his head one way, she moved hers the other, and their eyes closed. He slid his hands around her waist and she let go of his shirt to loop her arms around his neck.

            Matt was pounding on the glass again. Shiro raised his right hand to flip him the bird as he continued to kiss the woman of his dreams in the home of hers.


End file.
